LockDown: A Different Side of the Fence
by Trinity Is God
Summary: What if Sandy's involvement with Rebecca had more fatal consequences on the Cohen's then anyone ever imagined?
1. Rings

Okay, this is one of those little things that suddenly popped into my head and I'm like

OMG I must write. Hopefully you like it. Rhyme or Reason will be updated shortly here

But the other two may take a backseat cause I haven't figured out exactly what I want to accomplish

with them. Oh, and if you all want to see a spellbindingly breathtakingly awesome movie? Go see

Million Dollar Baby. It's simply beautiful. I've worked in a movie theater for 5 years. Trust me. Its been a

Long time since I've seen something that powerful….

**Please review** and let me know what you think! Vamanos!

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"Let me tell you something my friend. Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope can drive a man insane."

-Ellis Boyd 'Red' Redding –The Shawshank Redemption.

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"If there's magic in boxing is the magic of fighting battles beyond endurance, beyond cracked ribs, ruptured kidneys and detached retinas. It's the magic of risking everything for a dream that nobody sees but you."

-Eddie Scrap-Iron Dupris - Million Dollar Baby.

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Rebecca.

The name that sent shivers up Kirsten's spine. The name that when she heard it her heart dropped down to her stomach, or it felt like it did.

Maybe not shivers. Maybe more like poker hot anger. More or less pissed off, irritated, and insulted, words along that line. But the anger was definitely there. Maybe it was more frustration? She didn't know, and really didn't care as to which emotion was flowing through her the most.

And yes, shivers. The shivers were there too. Especially the way Sandy said her name, like it just rolled off his tongue so nice and smooth. It was so damn irritating. Now that was jealousy, and everyone in the world knows that jealousy is a most powerful emotion, one that shouldn't be messed with. Jealousy, could drive you mad…

Maybe that's why they weren't speaking at the moment. Actually, Kirsten knew that was the reason why they weren't speaking. Or rather he was speaking, she was sending silent, stony, Ryan-like glares and ignoring him, causing enough tension in the house that it could be cut with a knife.

Rebecca.

The only woman who could ruin her favorite holiday of the year.

Rebecca.

'_How do you even say it correctly? RE-becca? RU-becca?' _

She shrugged absentmindedly to herself, as if she pretended like she didn't care.

But she did.

She cared that her husband had lied to her over and over again, like a broken record. She cared that he didn't tell her she was staying at his office and had slept on his couch. She cared that he paid with his credit card and that she was now staying at that hotel all cozy and comfortable, and probably thinking of him.

What was the name again of the hotel again?

Fuddruckers? No, that was the name of a hamburger joint.

And she really cared that he blew off their Valentines Day dinner to go say goodbye to her. Did he not see how excited she was?

'_It's not like she's even leaving, she'll probably hang around and boo-hoo, and Sandy this, Sandy that, jump Sandy, how high will you jump for me?'_

Kirsten scowled as her thoughts ran ahead of her.

A knock on the door interrupted the lovely thoughts she had of stabbing the bitch.

The door handle jingled lightly, it was locked.

'_Ha!'_

"Kirsten? We need to talk."

She looked up at the door, amused.

"About?"

She heard him heave a huge sigh. He was probably running his hands over his face and through his hair. Maybe he was even tugging at his tie, loosening it.

"Kirsten, come on. You know what about…" he sounded desperate.

"Sandy. Maybe I just don't feel like talking right now."

Another large muffled sigh could be heard from the other side of the door.

She looked down at her platinum wedding bands. Was Sandy even happy when he married her? Like honestly happy? At the time, she had thought so, but now she suddenly wasn't so sure. She moved the large diamond around, mesmerized by its little rainbow sparkles and dazzling shimmers. _'They need cleaned,'_ she thought out of nowhere.

"Kirsten, you haven't spoken to me in about a week. Honey?"

'_Maybe you should have thought about that before you LEFT me on Valentines Day you bastard!'_

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you left me on Valentines Day, after I had gotten dressed up." She spoke her thoughts aloud, still playing with her ring.

She heard him lean against the door. "I'm sorry," he murmured softly.

'_I know, trust me, I most definitely know, it's the only words you have constantly told me, over and over and over again.'_

It was her turn to sigh. A strand of blond hair fell into her face, obstructing her view of her shiny bands.

She didn't bother to push it back, instead she viewed the way her hand might look without the glittery ornaments. It was weird to see it like that. Her hand looked bare, and when she pulled the rings up slightly she could see the indention of skin, where it was baby soft from being protected by the metal, all these years.

She looked up at the door, a smirk on her face and a raise of a perfectly arched eyebrow. '_Fine Sandy, you want to play rough. I'll give you rough.'_

She rose and unlocked the door in a quick flick of her wrist, and then turned on her heel, moving to sit back down again at the little table in her room, by the window. It was a nice sunny day outside, the waves were hitting the beach, and someone was surfing down there.

She tensed up ready for anything he could possibly throw at her.

It took a few minutes and she thought she heard him scramble up from the floor, but maybe it was her imagination. Maybe she had hoped he would have just left her alone.

He came in the room, apology written across his face, and his hair stuck out in odd places. He looked tired and she wondered how he was sleeping. After she had locked the door, he had slept on the couch most nights, or in the guest bedroom. She didn't know which.

"I'm-"

She held up her hands, "Don't. I'm tired of apologies Sandy. I'm your wife. I married you because I love you. I married you because I thought you might just be a little bit happy with me. I didn't marry you so that you could go rendezvousing with some other woman from your past, whom you were supposed to marry at one point in time. I come first, this family comes first," she sighed, irritated. She was saying the same thing over again.

"Kirsten, honey, I know, I was just trying to help her, it was for her father, she didn't have anyone else she could turn to. Besides doesn't it sound like Jimmy and I remember you insisting that I help him," he scoffed.

He was pushing her buttons and she knew it because she raised another eyebrow at him and folded her hands in her lap. "I asked if you could help him, at least Jimmy wasn't a criminal on the run."

Sandy rounded on her his blue eyes bright and ablaze, "No he just stole four million dollars from various people of the community and kissed you."

"Did you kiss Rebecca?" She asked coolly, expecting an answer.

He then turned away from her, a redness creeping up into his cheeks. He should have kept his mouth shut. He didn't answer her question.

She nodded her head, her face grim. "Fair enough Sandy. Here, maybe this is what you want?" She slowly slid her rings off her left hand, and slammed them down on the table. "Is she what you want? Go, then, and you know what for one whole night you wont be married to me, so you can go kiss Rebecca, if you haven't already, go have one last night of passion since you still hold this grudge against me. Is that what you want? Is she what you want? Here's your chance, because I'm tired of being treated like I was your second choice."

She was literally screaming now and she could no longer hold back how much everything truly hurt. Her gorgeous dark blue eyes welled with tears and her own face flushed a heated pink.

She meant to stay in control and she didn't mean to say that, or to come unglued, but sometimes things just seem to… happen that way.

The way he looked at her after her small unrehearsed, almost ragged flowing speech nearly broke her heart.

His eyes were soft and wondrous, looking at her in an awed like gaze. Maybe he sensed she was scared, hell, maybe he thought she had just turned psycho. Maybe, she hoped, he could sense she just plain and simply had enough. He stared at her, her normally perfect blond hair was out of place, and her breathing was rapid and rushed. His eyes roamed to her chest as he watched her pant in and out, the small silver chain she had on glinting in the light.

The salty blue eyes cast to the wedding rings strewn about on the table, and she didn't know it, but his own heart was pounding in his chest.

He stood there, looking at her his facial expression almost giving off a blank stare, but inside his mind was racing. All he had wanted to do was help. And the only thing he accomplished was hurting the one he loved the most. Maybe instead of trying to play hero, he should have taken a step back and told Rebecca, "I'm sorry, I can't help you." Twenty years was a long time, for both the past and the present. He knew how Kirsten felt, he saw how she acted and how she always told him that she wasn't going to stand in his way. That was her way of telling him, please don't, he knew that. He fucking knew that! Now look where all of this had led him. His wife was throwing her rings on the table and telling him to go fuck some other woman.

Carefully he went over and picked up the rings like they were fragile ice sculptures and would break at any moment. She watched as he placed the rings in his palm, the bands looking so small and breakable there. Once, he had attempted to try them on and they only slid halfway up his pinky, he almost got them stuck, and she remembered how it felt without them.

'_The same way it feels now,'_ her stupid conscience reminded her.

Hollow.

Empty.

Naked.

Scared.

With the rings securely in his palm he slowly walked over to her. His movements were timid and he acted nervous around her for the first time in years.

His eyes didn't meet hers but instead his hand softly grabbed hers and he slid the rings on her left hand, where they belonged, where he had placed them nearly twenty years ago.

He sighed and his eyes met hers. "I married you because I love you. Because I fell in love with you the second I saw you. You were never second and you never will be. I'm so sorry for making you feel like that. You deserve better," his voice was soft and he hung his head. He felt ashamed.

She knew the look that he held on his face now it was a look she rarely saw. It reminded her of the look he had on his face when his mother told him she was dying of cancer. She knew things would be forever different if he walked out of the room. There would be a distance, a total awkwardness between them. She didn't want that.

He turned to go and impulsively she reached out and took his larger hand in hers, turning him around and moved against him, tucking her head underneath his chin, her arms wrapping around him, her body pressed tightly against his.

"Sandy we can't keep doing this. We can't be at each other's throats all the time." She almost forgot how good he felt and how safe she felt against him.

He tightened his grip upon her and nodded in agreement, his voice low and deep, "I know. It's okay now, you and I, you know, we just go through these little tests from time to time - it keeps us on our toes. We're okay."

He kissed her forehead lightly.

She nodded before looking up at him, "Okay," and there was assurance in her voice.

"Okay," he echoed, before kissing her softly.

'_Okay.'_

-

A tan, lean, athletic female police officer leaned up against the railing on the pier. She was bored.

Her eyes cast to a young woman with curly brown hair, scurrying along in a hurried way that someone only does when one is hiding something.

Out of curiosity and pure boredom she followed her. Officer Samantha Walthrop kept up with the woman's rushed pace until she found herself in a luxurious hotel. Watching the woman rush to the elevator past the hotel desk she stopped there and asked the man who she was.

"Rebecca? She's staying in room twenty-four. Mr. Cohen said we should take extra care of her," the old man winked. "I think it's his niece," he smiles.

"Mr. Cohen?" Officer Walthrop asks curiously.

The old man whose nametag read 'Bill' nodded. "Sandy Cohen, the lawyer that got Caleb Nichol out of t-r-o-u-b-l-e if you know what I mean!"

She knew what he meant. Walthrop also knew the Cohen's and Cooper's and Nichols. Who didn't in this little town?

"Rebecca, you say?" She cracked her chewing gum.

"Oh, yes, Rebecca Bloom," he chuckled, "Such a nice young lady."

Walthrop grinned. She knew Rebecca Bloom. The woman who liked to blow things up and then just disappears into thin air. "I need you to take me up to her room. She's under arrest."

Poor Bill, he looked like he might have a stroke. He nodded his head the way an old person does. The slight shake in all the features and the old baby soft fat underneath his chin moved around like Jell-O. '_Poor Bill,'_ she thought again.

"Walthrop to base?"

"Go ahead."

"Can you send backup to my location," she rambled on, cracking her gum at the thought of an arrest, at the excitement of an arrest. She loved arresting people, it was still one of the few things that got her pumping. "Oh, and a few squads to Sandy Cohen's house. He's under arrest for aiding and abetting a criminal as well as consortion with Rebecca Bloom. "

"10-4."

The Officer grinned, this was to be the biggest scandal in the town since Caleb Nichol. Sandy Cohen, goody two shoes lawyer, now who the hell was going to save his ass when he was going to prison?

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	2. Thoughts

Here's round two folks. I hope you all enjoy it. Please Review!

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"You're gonna leave me again?"

"Never."

-Million Dollar Baby

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They didn't exactly make up. It was more like a tolerance, or a peace treaty of some sorts.

And he fucking hated it.

The kind of fight you and your parents have, and then to keep the peace when you sort of all sit together afterwards.

In a room.

Real quiet like.

Then someone sees a commercial on TV and mentions something like, "Oh, I can't wait to see that movie," and everyone else in the room murmurs or mumbles, "Yeah," or "Mmm," to keep the peace.

A completely awkward silence.

_Fuck._

After she had thrown her rings, he knew it was serious. Well he kind of knew before that considering they hadn't talked or touched in a week. He knew she was pissed beyond pissed. Kind of like a Julie Cooper-I-Married-For-Money-And-Now-The-Guy-Is-Poor type pissed. A pissed off level that he didn't even know how to react to.

A level of pissed off he hadn't seen in years.

He froze.

Had something changed between them? Something was off, and he didn't know what… Were they growing apart? They weren't turning into one of those married couples who simply live together, kind of like brother and sister, were they?

Suddenly Sandy gasped for air as he took a look at the perspective of their relationship.

They couldn't be growing that far apart, could they? Not like totally ending, I-want-a-divorce-part?

'_No, even if she wants it, she's not getting it,'_ he shook his head adamantly. It was out of the question and he wouldn't do it. He would not let his wife go like that, not after everything they had been through. Even IF it came down to that, he would simply sit on the couch and listen to her screw some other guy in what used to be THEIR bedroom. His tears rolling down his cheeks and drinking something, probably tequila as he listened to her cries, while choking on his own, as his life was slowly ending one moan at a time.

'_NO! NO, NO, NO! STOP THINKING THAT! STOP!' _Now someone in his head was angry, as the visuals of Kirsten screwing someone else popped into his head like spontaneous balloons.

No, It was simply a rut or a test as he had put it earlier.

He paused as he hoped she might be coming out of the shower and to bed, where he was finally allowed. He needed to see her, to just look at her in her own splendid wonder and think gratefully to himself that she was his.

That thought led to another which had taken place long ago, where back in college when they were in that puppy-love – I-cant-get-enough-of-you stage. The times where his own jealousy had kicked in when he watched as she talked to other guys, almost flirtsy like before she saw him. She would say her goodbye to whoever it was and walk over to him, giving him this huge kiss, making a big deal out of him. And when he wouldn't respond like she wanted him to she would always manage to make her way along his neck and whisper "Stop being jealous, I'm yours." Then he would have to walk to class with his books in front of him but that was all right because she was his and that's where she wanted to be.

He shook his head, a small grin on his face. Things weren't like that as of late.

Hell, he may as well have had an affair with Rebecca with the way she was acting. Her attitude had cooled off a little and she actually spoke to him more in the past two hours than in the past week. And what the hell was up with the woman and R's in his life, Rachel, Rebecca… he didn't fully understand that coincidence. Whatever it was they sure put a strain on his marriage.

After he held her for a few moments, and kissed her for the first time in a week, she sighed and told him she was going to go take a shower. She looked weary, worn out and tired. If it had been any other time he would have asked if she wanted company.

Right now he knew she didn't. This was her alone time, her time to think and to process.

And to cry.

She was probably crying right now, wondering where exactly she had gone wrong. He sometimes wondered if she ever wished she had married Jimmy Cooper instead of him, and what their life might have been like. They would have been rich, Orange County's finest, and he might have read about her taking part of her father's company, or Jimmy and his great job and such, maybe he would have seen them on the news here and there. He knew Jimmy wouldn't have stolen from clients, he knew that for sure.

His face was grim, as he was deep in thought.

Kirsten and Jimmy, having their own little fun time together, laughing, smiling, raising happy, healthy rich kids, not adopting attitude ridden ones, or having their own run away.

Maybe her and Jimmy would have bought their kids little BMW's every few years and the kids could have gone off to some rich college and blown their money in partying. Yet still they would manage to make Mom and Dad proud by getting that degree from Harvard or Yale, graduating top dog of their class. And maybe Jimmy and her might have taken a cruise every few weeks because - well that's what super rich people do- they spend money like most people go through toilet paper. Sandy knew that together Kirsten and Jimmy would have more money in the bank than the whole state of California had in income taxes. And her father would have liked Jimmy. He always had.

Instead of Kirsten putting up with his shit and his attraction to help those in dire need like the PD's office, or Rebecca she would be off and out with Jimmy. He shook his head as if trying to rid himself of the very thought of her marrying Jimmy.

Then he had to wonder to himself, who exactly would he have married, if anyone at all and would he even loved them like he loved her?

Kirsten with Jimmy or Kirsten with someone else_? 'No, no,'_ he told himself. It was something he didn't want to think about. If he didn't have his wife, who would? What if she married someone who abused her, or hit her, or ignored her?

'_Like you have been doing?' _His guilty conscience reminded him of his own wrong doings.

He sighed and changed his clothes into his normal sleepwear, a red flannel pair of boxers and an old beat up, but soft T-shirt that said BRONX, NY across the front of it. He glanced out his window and saw the lights of the pool house turn out which meant Ryan was going to bed. As he walked out and down the hallway he watched his other son give him a half smile and a small wave as he ducked into the sanctuary of his own room.

Well, now that he knew where the boys were he may as well head to bed himself.

Hearing the shower still screaming at him at full blast he sighed wearily and pulled the covers back, grateful as the comfortable mattress came up and molded to achy body. He missed his bed.

He missed his wife.

It was suddenly silence of the shower as he heard the squeak from the knob as she turned off the hot water. For some reason the cold water never squeaked, but the hot did.

He listened, the bathroom door was cracked and the only light entering their dark room was from there. In his mind he could see her towel drying her rosy pink colored body off, first her face, and then the small shoulders, followed by her arms, the towel tracing her collarbone like a kid coloring, quick and hasteful, yet deliberately slow as so not to miss anything. Down her thin stomach, over the powerful rise of her hips to follow the trail down her long graceful legs. Then she would wrap that damp towel around her, use another towel so she could dry her hair, and apply all sorts of feminine products and lotions that would make her smell irresistible to him.

She was irresistible without all that smelly stuff.

He heard her brush her hair and then her teeth before shutting out the light and wondering into the dark room.

"Damnit Sandy," she muttered, sounded more pissed off then usual. He always shut the light off, leaving the bedroom in darkness. Most nights she didn't mind.

Then he remembered yet again, this wasn't most nights.

For a second he wanted to giggle like a kid and to pull the blanket up over his head and hide, laughing to himself. But he didn't, he remained completely still and watched her, as his eyes had long ago adjusted to the dark.

She stood paused in the bathroom doorway, concentrating on the windows, knowing as soon as she let her own eyes adjust she could see and make her way about the room.

He watched as she did so and went to her dresser.

"Don't," he barely whispered as she whipped around. If he could have seen her eyes they were simply on fire.

"Don't what?" She softened her voice for the simple fact if she spoke like normal he would have been able to tell she cried her eyes out like a baby in the shower. _'He probably knows anyway.'_

"Just come to bed, just like that, please," he pleaded to her. _'Please, please come to bed Kirsten.'_

She shot him a dirty look in the dark that he didn't see and grudgingly did what he asked, as she unconsciously tightened the towel around her naked body.

As she eased herself into their bed, almost feeling awkward to be caught in a towel with her husband beside her fully clothed. She rested on her back and stared at their ceiling.

Of course Sandy would want to make love and of course she wouldn't want to right now.

She just didn't feel, right? She couldn't explain it. She thought that she was just still too angry to do so. Just because they had yelled at each other and gotten some of the things bothering them off their chest didn't exactly mean everything was back to normal.

He must have sensed the tension in her body and in her brain because he backed off his approach like female lions back off attacks on the their approaching pray.

Instead he rolled on his side and gazed at her, his eyes roaming her moonlight silhouetted body. Her hands were behind her head, her wet hair danced around her shoulders and pillow, almost guarding her. The white towel was snug against her body and could be seen rising with each breath she took.

He couldn't stop his hand as it reached out and placed itself on the vanilla soft skin of the underside of her arm. He didn't see the look in her dark blue eyes as they yelled, _'What the fuck are you doing, DO NOT touch me!' _to him. Instead he watched as she licked her lips, sighed softly and turned towards him.

She surprised him when she propped herself up on her elbow and gazed back at him, the fire and fiery gazes gone. Her look this time was simply wondrous. It was really the only way to explain it. Her eyes were alight and her pupils open and dark, the coloring of her eye almost gone and she gave off the look a small child did when they were shown something amazing.

Her eyes roamed everything, never missing one little detail. She watched as his thumb barely moved across her skin, she watched as his eyes met hers and looked away guiltily like he had eaten all the cookies in the jar and wouldn't fess up to it. She didn't miss that in the moonlight the gray in his hair shimmered and the black almost had a blue tint to it. She didn't miss that he almost looked sad for once. Maybe lost was a better explanation for it.

She gave him a small smile before reaching out with her other than and placing it across his fuzzy cheek, listening as her hand rasped beneath his stubble. Her eyes were drawn to her wedding band as it caught the moonlight and it sparkled with every mustered ounce of brilliance it still had.

His own hand reached up and covered hers as it rested against his heated cheek. He was almost blushing in the dark. It was the way she was looking at him and her physical touch, or the lack of from the past week that made him as flustered as he was. He was positive that if he had been standing at that very moment he would have fallen over, too weak in the knees to stand.

"Sandy. I'm only going to say this once. You can fight with me all you want, but this is it. There is no more Rebecca, Sandy. You will not see her anymore. As far as I'm concerned she can stay in that little hotel room till she turns blue in the face. But she will not be seeing _my_ husband and that's final. You can call her and tell her this, or I'll _gladly_ go over there and tell her, but I will not go through this again." Her voice might have been soft, but her words were strong and they spoke force when they needed to. He thought that she had said "Gladly" with more excitement then she had intended to.

He knew that was all she had thought about in the shower, how to broach this subject with him.

Then she corrected herself. "We, will not go through this again. I can't be second Sandy, and I won't be."

He nodded and kissed her palm gently. "I'll never let you feel that way again, I promise." This time when he reached out for her, she let him. Maybe it sealed the idea in her mind that he just might have missed her too, as this past week far to long for both of them. Or maybe it was the sincerity in his voice and the way he closed his eyes and trembled at her touch that forced her granite wall to fade away slightly.

She had missed him, too, immeasurably so.

Her towel managed to fall off by the time she moved across the space between them. This time, her body was yelling to her brain _"Fuck youuuuu and your emotional problems!" _And she decided to listen to it instead.

He didn't dare let his hand slip under the covers, but he did move so that was he was closer to her. He watched as she tugged the damp towel away from her gorgeous body and tossed it somewhere on a nearby floor listening as it landed with a dull tha-wump!

Her hands immediately went up underneath his T-shirt against his warm bare skin and caused him to shiver. Her touch was exhilarating and cold, and the mixture of both caused her to smile at his reaction.

"Off," she whispered as she tugged impatiently at his shirt and boxers and off they went, flying somewhere over by the dead towel. The covers slid down his body as he took off his boxers.

"Kirsten, it's cold," he shivered and his teeth chattered as she watched his body tremble from the cold air as it brushed by his exposed skin. The air conditioner kept the room chilly and that was the way they both liked it, warm bed, and cold room. It was easier to snuggle that way.

Goosebumps were all over him by the time she pulled the covers and herself on top of him. She smiled a lazy grin, watching in amusement as he closed his eyes, thankful for the warmth, which wasn't much warmth at all because her body was still cool from the damp towel.

His soft hands went to her back, one down at the lower part of her spine, before the gentle rise of her hips, while the other went up towards the tender shoulder blades, below her neck.

His eyes were closed as he shivered again and she almost giggled. His hands roamed over her smooth back and she kissed him deeply before moving her head down to his chest, enjoying his closeness and the safety of his deep embrace. It was an odd feeling what she had now, compared to what she had felt only moments earlier. It was if a switch had been flicked on and she couldn't get enough of him. Kissing Sandy was always perfect, and it was something she loved doing, his lips soft and inviting, his tongue swirling around hers with a slow passion.

She tightened her embrace around him and he did the same, probably feeling her body tremble, as she felt scared for no real reason. She closed her eyes as the sudden warmth of his body and his heavy heartbeat against her ear made her drowsy.

"Hon?" he whispered sleepily.

The noise she was supposed to make was "what," but it came out more like "Mmm?"

"How disappointed are you going to be if we just sleep … for a while," he asked cautiously and slowly, as his voice held exhaustion beyond his years. He stifled a yawn. The past week had done a number on him.

She picked her head up from his chest and kissed his lips again softly, her own lingering against his. "Go to sleep Sandy," she whispered and ran her hand through his dark hair. She felt him relax entirely.

She doubted she even spoke the words before her husband was out.

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Officer Samantha Walthrop groaned in frustration, as her big bust was put on hold until late tomorrow evening, after the FBI agents or "Suits," as they were called, had flown in.

Something about evidence, court orders and something along the lines of following protocol. Not to mention the "Suits," were taking control of the case, however, she was still in on the arrest.

She could have done a cartwheel right there on the floor at the thought of arresting Rebecca, or Sandy Cohen. She would prefer Sandy, just to see the look on his ridiculously rich family's face.

How about that MasterCard? How much more priceless can you get?

Cruise, drinks not included 8,000.

Range Rover, 85,000.

Watching your lawyer husband get hauled off to jail because of Rebecca Bloom?

Priceless.

She smiled, as the saying was true, there are some things money can't buy, but for everything else there's MasterCard.

She chewed her gum happily at the thought of how much fun tomorrow evening would be.

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	3. Mine

Please review guys, lol I love it that you all hate Sam. Poor Girl. Please review, pretty pretty please?

Shoutout to my beta, Jann, or Softthorns, cause without her I'd have really stupid mistakes. She does Rhyme or Reason too. Give her a round of applause.

On with the show!

"_If I had one more night to live... I'd wanna spend it with you."_

_Pearl Harbor, Evelyn Johnson._

"_I fear all we have done is to awaken a sleeping giant."_

_Pearl Harbor._

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_Rebecca was holding him underwater. _

_That Bitch!_

_He was trying to save her and she had turned around and began drowning him. After everything he did for her._

_God, she had a strong grip. He kept struggling and she kept on smiling through the ripples and splashing. _

_Was she on fucking steroids? _

_Soon the panic had rushed through him that he wasn't getting any air and his heart pounded with a force well beyond its years while his lungs were ready to burst from holding his breath. Soon he would have to open his mouth and the water would come rushing in, and he would choke, the water effectively filling his lungs and the all the oxygen would be gone._

_And he would drown._

_He couldn't hold his breath anymore and began to gasp, as the clear colored liquid slowly filled his chest and he watched the edges of his vision turn black and felt his pounding heart in his chest slowly stop._

_He gasped one last time. _

_Rebecca grinned even more evilly than it was humanly possible. _

_Suddenly Kirsten arose from the water and hit her in the head with a baseball bat. Then she just walks away and doesn't even check on him. In his head and under the water he's calling for her, yelling and screaming her name. _

_She doesn't even turn around. _

_She managed to mumble the words before running into someone else's arms, a face he couldn't see, "You should have listened to me Sandy. You should have listened." _

Sandy Cohen jerked awake, gasping for breath and sitting up in bed. His hair is sweaty as he runs his hand through it.

'_Holy hell that was a scary dream.'_

He placed a hand over his heart, closed his eyes and swallowed, trying to calm himself down. His heart thuds loudly in his chest and he takes a deep breath and sighs. His hand reeks havoc with his hair again. It stands up at all angles because it's wet.

He pauses and listens, he can hear the TV on a low drone downstairs.

Kirsten wasn't beside him.

Thunder rocked the house, effectively making her jump. She just couldn't sleep, no matter what she did. She had rolled over on her right side, she moved over on her left, she had tried lying on her back.

Nothing.

Sleep just couldn't come for her.

She kept thinking of Rebecca, (_Ru-becca?_) and how easy it was for this woman to move in her life, and to come between Sandy and herself. Even Rachel had managed to do such a thing in a short amount of time. Was it her? Was she losing her appeal to him, was she no longer the woman that he proclaimed he wanted, was she not beautiful enough anymore?

Her thoughts were all over the place when she heard him slowly shuffle down, causing her to pause and shut off the TV. She was surprised he slept as long as he had with this storm.

Lightning flashed across one of the many windows and thunder bellowed from outside, rumbling the glass of the house.

Sandy jumped lightly as he made his way down the steps to seek the comfort of his wife. Or at least be in her presence, he wasn't too sure about the comfort level once he told her Rebecca had drowned him. Maybe he wouldn't say anything about the dream and just cuddle up to her like he was used to doing.

Lightning flashed again and he jumped at the thunder that hit somewhere close.

The windows rattled again, and for a second he was surprised Kirsten hadn't come back to bed. Storms weren't exactly her thing either.

He sometimes really hated storms. Not always, but after this little nightmarish like dream he just had, he sure wasn't a fan of this one. It kept rumbling the windows of his house and he hated that, it made everything seem more real like something was coming to get him.

'_Blah, whatever Cohen,'_ his thoughts were too garbled to be even close to normal after that dream.

He had grabbed a blanket from his bed after he tossed some clothes on and wrapped it tighter around his body, warding off the chill that the house and the dream had given him.

He walked down the steps and watched as she turned the TV off and sat in the dark, the lightning illuminating her features like a strobe light, on and off.

This is how different their relationship had to be. Kirsten would normally be sleeping soundly in bed with him, when the storm hit and the thunder banged about she would shift and move up more upon his chest and bury her face in his neck and fall back asleep. She did this because she felt safe with him, and maybe now she didn't feel safe at all.

Of course his arm would go numb but he wouldn't dare move it, while his hand came up and played with her hair until he was sure she was asleep.

Now instead, she sat on the couch and gazed out the window, occasionally glancing to the pool house where Ryan slept. The kid could sleep through anything.

He watched her shift and she lay on her back, an elbow coming up to cover her eyes from the brilliant lightning storm going on outside. Maybe she knew he was coming and didn't want to talk. They both had been good at doing that lately, dancing around the subjects that matter because it would get either one riled up and it wasn't worth it anymore.

He continued his walk and slowly rounded the couch, making sure he didn't scare her and slowly sat down on the floor.

"You can't sleep either, I take it," she murmured from the dark grooves of her arm, feeling him settle against the couch.

He managed to turn so his head rested on the couch and he managed to mumble, "No."

She smiled softly in the darkness and reached out to run a hand through his hair, stopping to look at him when her hand comes back damp and his hair stays in the place that she swept it.

Sitting up she looked at her husband with worry. Sandy never has nightmares and he normally sleeps through the night and comforts her when her own demons come up and play. Moving so she's closer to him her hand grazes his stubbled cheek and she noticed how pale he is.

"Hey," she whispers her voice soft and inviting and she sits up on the couch, somehow managing to pull him up to sit with her.

Her eyes are curious as she looks at him and murmurs, "Bad dream?"

He didn't say anything and leaned back against the couch, letting Kirsten play with his hair. The lightned flashed through the window and he tensed again, waiting for the loud crack of thunder and wincing as it crashed somewhere outside.

"Sandy?"

The lightening illuminated his nervous and almost frightened facial features and she gave in from being the tough dog. Leaning up she kissed his temple, well aware of the shiver that that coursed through his body and didn't stop.

Her lips trailed down his temple to his cheek before softly grazing his lips, her arm moving to wrap across his chest.

His own hand moved up and held her arm closer to him, he felt slightly better, with her body close to his.

"Kirsten. You and I, we're okay right? I mean…. I don't… do you know how much I love you?" Even Sandy's deep voice trembled when his body shook, to the point where she heard his teeth chatter against themselves. He tightened his hold on her unconsciously pulled the blanket tighter, as if waiting for bad news.

She pulled back to look at him, his behavior was odd and different and her Sandy was normally so in control and relaxed, very few things could worry him, especially something as silly as a dream. She reached up, and placed her cool hand against his warm forehead, wondering if maybe he might be running a fever.

He felt normal and she watched as he closed his eyes against her touch. "Of course we're okay, and you know I love you too," she whispered softly against him before kissing him, sealing her promise that they were indeed okay now.

She held him close for a few moments before she stood up and pulled him to his feet, leading him into their bedroom and he sighs as he lies down and waits for her to join him. She barely makes it in the bed before his arm wraps around her and pulls her close, while he ducks his head against her shoulder. He's safe when he's with her she keeps him calm and sane.

She smiles at his antics and listens as his breathing evens out almost immediately and the storm that was raging outside finally calms too.

Later in the afternoon Kirsten knew what kept her awake and she knew what she had to do.

She went to Rebecca's hotel room at the exact time Samantha Walthrop ducked into the restroom. Kirsten knew her conversation with Rebecca would only take a few minutes.

Knocking on the door the older woman answered it with a surprised glint in her eyes.

"Somehow I'm not surprised to see you here," her voice was crisp and edgy.

Kirsten looked around the hotel and in spite of herself, grinned. Of course Sandy couldn't let her stay in a shithole. She would have.

"I just need to know a few things," she murmured as she watched the chestnut haired woman settle on the couch.

Rebecca just looked at her.

"Are you still in love with my husband?" Kirsten's voice was cold and she stared her down.

"Wow, that was a bit straightforward."

Kirsten didn't waiver, nor did she move from her ground. She continued to stare at Rebecca and crossed her arms, as if daring her.

The older women swallowed and like most people she glanced around the room nervously while being scrutinized.

"Yes, I still am."

Kirsten smirked and shook her head. She ran a hand over her face and looked at Rebecca the anger on her face dared her to move, or to even speak.

"_That_ was a bit straightforward. I want you to know something. I just came here to tell you that Sandy will not be "stopping over," anymore. In fact, you won't be seeing _my_ husband again."

It was Rebecca's turn to smirk. If this woman was trying to scare her, well it wasn't working, Sandy would come around, and he always did. Besides how could he be married to someone like her anyway?

Kirsten grinned. "I don't know if you know exactly who I am. My father built Newport Beach. I know a lot of people Rebecca, and I know a lot of excavators and construction companies. I wouldn't want to see your body accidentally showing up somewhere like that. I have a lot of favors out there and a lot of people that would bend over backwards for me. I also have a lot, a lotta lotta money, I'm filthy rich Rebecca. I wouldn't want to see anything bad happen to you, you know? Because I can make it happen." Kirsten snapped her fingers.

"Are you threatening me?" Her voice was incredulous.

Kirsten rounded on her and she made her point loud and clear. "Don't mess with what is mine, Rebecca Bloom. Don't you dare mess with my sons, my husband, or my family again. Don't you _even think_ about messing with _my_ husband! You can stay in this little hotel until you decide to jump the border again which," Kirsten glanced at her watch, "Should be what, anytime now?"

Rebecca proceeded with caution when she realized Kirsten was more than serious. She had plans already made, hell she probably already hired a hit man. She said nothing and looked at her hands.

Kirsten grinned, and Julie thought she wasn't a bitch. She figured she would have made Julie proud at this moment.

Kirsten rounded away from her and turned to head out the door. "I mean it Rebecca. Don't you dare mess with what is mine."

Kirsten's words hung in the room like balloons,

_Don't._

_You. _

_Dare. _

_Mess._

_With._

_What. _

_Is._

_**Mine. **_

As Kirsten left the hotel, Officer Walthrop exited the restroom and glanced toward Rebecca's door. She was quick to walk into the room next to hers and look at her security camera that they had set up.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

Sam sighed, the storm earlier this morning had put her in a sour mood, but now she was getting excited again. They had the billing information that Sandy Cohen had indeed rented this room and good ol' Rebecca couldn't shut the fuck up to old Bill at the front desk and blurted out her name and her sad, sad little story to him. Apparently Bill reminded Rebecca of her father that she had just lost.

'_Oh Boo Hoo.' _Sam thought. _'Boo-Cry-Me-A-River-Fucking-Hoo-Hoo!'_

Bill had in return kept quiet once Samantha shoved a gun in the old fucker's face and told him if he tipped her off that she would arrest him too. Not really but it kept the old geezer quiet.

Pretty soon Travis would be here to watch Rebecca and then they would move in and arrest her and then head on over to Sandy Cohen's mansion.

Samantha would be on the team that was to arrest Sandy Cohen around 6ish tonight. She had put in a specific request just to do so. She grinned as she sat down against the plush couch. The image that played in her head was one of him in a jumpsuit. Somehow the fancy lawyer in an orange jumpsuit made Sam laugh.

She watched Rebecca piddle around the room and bite on her nails.

It was the craziest thought yet. And she couldn't wait to see it. Somehow in her excited state she had talked to a friend of hers, a judge named Murphy Beckstrom. Now Judge Beckstrom had been in court with Mr. Sandy Cohen many times and knew him pretty well. Sam knew that Cohen had pissed off Murphy more times then she could count and he was going to be pulling a ton of strings to get this case.

So if all went well she would arrest Sandy tonight and he would be in jail later this week, no bail, and no way out.

'_Sometimes,' _she mused, _'Money can't buy you everything.' _


	4. Changes

Please review, cause you all rock…and you'll make my day and that's what you want to do right, make my day, cause I just made yours and updated! Pwease?

Huge thank you to my beta, Jann.

Kay, Vamanos!

"_And deep down, they feel that whatever's going to happen, there will be someone there to help them. And that fills them with hope. See what you have to ask yourself is what kind of person are you? Are you the kind that sees signs, sees miracles? Or do you believe that people just get lucky? Or, look at the question this way: Is it possible that there are no coincidences?"  
-Graham Hess, Signs._

_-_

_-_

_-_

_-_

'_Larter? Tarter…dammit!' _she thought as she hurried home, pulling the range rover up in front of her house and taking a quick glance in the mirror to see how she looked. A little flushed in the face and her hands were shaking, but who was to blame her after threatening Rebecca within an inch of her life. A blond piece of hair was out of place, she patted it back down.

Maybe she and Sandy would have time for a little impromptu sex after Darter came to visit.

'_What is his name?' _This was going to drive her nuts.

She should have smacked that smug look she always had on her face- off of it. Kirsten wasn't joking when she threatened Rebecca. She was tired of this, she was tired of sleeping alone, she was tired of fighting with him, and she was tired of Seth and Ryan and the way then walked around them like they were walking on eggshells. Families aren't supposed to be that way and there was no way in hell that hers was going to end up like this. _'The next thing you know, one of us will end up in prison,'_ she chuckled to herself. Like that would ever happen.

But Kirsten was more in control than that. She couldn't afford herself the luxury of letting go. Although, deep down she wished she would have. Yogalates class would suffer this week as she took out her anger and frustration out upon it.

She would have more than loved to slap Rebecca. It would have been better than eating a fresh cinnamon bun from the Cinnabon place. God and those were good when they were fresh. Sandy would agree with her on that.

'_Carter!' _she suddenly remembered who he was. He was stopping by the house this afternoon - he was to be her new business partner. Or something along the likes of

that, it was her Dad's idea and she was mulling over the idea of how to kill off Rebecca at the time. Or at least hurt her, really, really badly.

Or just enough to put her in a coma. Forever.

She rushed in the house and up the stairs to her bedroom, stripping off her clothes and rummaging through her closet for something more appropriate. Something dressier or businesswoman like.

'_Black pants and a nice blouse will do fine,'_ she chastised herself for not thinking of this sooner. She took off her wedding bands and placed them on the counter as she reached for the red bottle of Victoria's Secret lotion that Sandy loved so much. She hated when she watched other woman not take off their diamonds when putting lotion on. The air was filled with the smell and she inhaled deeply. Thank God for Victoria's Secret. She forgot all about her shiny wedding rings sitting on the dresser as she glanced in the mirror one more time.

She straightened her hair quickly and heard the doorbell ring. Without a second thought she rushed through the foyer and down the stairs, putting on her shoes as she went; something that only a well practiced woman could do.

Or one in a hurry.

In spite of herself she smiled when she saw himtall, dark hair, nice jaw line and a great smile. He was well built and rather handsome.

"Hi. Kirsten Cohen," she reached out and shook his hand. He was taller than Sandy and younger too; he had broad shoulders and carried himself well.

"Carter," he shook her hand and smiled and his voice was soft. His eyes roamed over her.

'_Carter!'_ Her brain happily rejoiced his name.

She liked him, in a business like way.

"Nice house," he commented as he glanced around as they walked into their living room.

"Thank you," she replied courteously as she led the way and out of nervous habit started to play with her hands. There was no clinking of metal like she was used to and she realized she forgot them on her dresser.

She wondered briefly where Sandy had gone.

She told him she would be right back and he nodded, setting out the portfolio he had brought and grabbed two glasses and some red wine.

"You look nice," he commented as he gladly accepted the wine and she froze an instant before recovering.

"Thank you," she murmured quietly again and was relieved when she heard the door open and shut. His eyes met hers from across the room and she smiled in relief when she saw him. Maybe it was just the fact that Carter wouldn't stop looking at her up and down like she was a piece of meat.

Sandy watched his wife and the new guy that Caleb had hired for something and watched how the man gazed at his wife. She looked uncomfortable.

'_Bastard,' _Sandy thought. _'I oughtta hit you.'_

Sandy crossed the room, ignoring their guest and kissed his wife on her temple, inhaling her scent and letting his lips linger a little longer than normal.

She didn't realize how much she wanted him close. She leaned into his tender gesture of affection, while closing her eyes briefly as Carter watched the small, private exchange. She smiled gratefully at him as he sat down beside her, she felt relieved.

"Oh. Sorry I didn't know you had someone over, Sandy Cohen, I'm Kirsten's husband," he feigned innocents and reached across and shook Carter's hand.

"Carter," he replied with the same formality and a smile.

He couldn't help but wonder if it was his first or his last name.

Sandy snickered at the thought and Kirsten hit him in his arm lightly, knowing exactly what he was thinking.

He leaned back and whispered in Kirsten's ear, "Sorry honey," before placing a soft kiss behind the lobe and effectively making her shiver.

He got up and left the room, smiling at his wife. She had her confidence back.

"You didn't have on any rings; I didn't know you were married."

"I am."

She changed the subject quickly. It was none of his concern.

Sandy sat outside, on one of the lawn chairs watching the gorgeous view of the ocean that the mansion's spot on the hill provided. _'I should go surfing,' _he mused as he watched a wave crash upon the beach. The sun shining down on him was warm and it made him drowsy as he listened to the crashing of the waves.

His trance was broken when he heard the door slam and watched Ryan jog to the pool house, a load of heavy books underneath his arm.

"Hey kid," Sandy called.

"Hey!" He managed to yell, "Sorry, I got a lot of homework!" Before he ducked into the pool house, his books almost toppling out of his hands.

Sandy grinned. He and Seth had traded places this year. The only thing that hadn't changed was the fact that Seth couldn't shut up and Ryan couldn't say enough. He had noticed that the boys had noticed the tension that had erupted between him and Kirsten. Hopefully things were on the right track now; she was still a little edgier than normal.

He shifted on the lawn chair so he sat on the end of it and played with a few blades of grass that the lawn mower man had forgotten to weed-whack. Somehow moving this particular piece of lawn furniture must have been a choir. He was surprised Kirsten hadn't said something about it. Maybe she had and he hadn't been paying attention at the time.

Sandy chuckled as the sudden thought of Ryan babbling about nothing entered his head and then nearly fell off the lawn chair when her voice startled him, "What's so funny?"

She broke into a giggle as he tried to regain any dignity that he might have left.

He ran a hand through his unruly dark hair and gave her a sideways look. "You almost made me have a heart attack Kirsten!" He sighed as his heart went from his stomach back up to his chest where it belonged.

That sent her into a laughing fit in which she couldn't help as she sat down on the chair with him. It had brought tears to her eyes and her body shook as she continued.

"I'm sorry…. Sandy… but you …look so ridiculous… almost falling…"

She started again and he couldn't help but smile.

He missed hearing her laugh. He missed watching her smile and look at him the way she just did – giving him the look that could bring him to his knees. Her face is flushed with pink from laughing as hard as she is and he feels the undeniable need to pull her close.

For a second he thinks, _'Rebecca never looks this beautiful.'_ No one could, it's not even fair to compare.

He smiles at her and wraps his arms around her tightly, pulling her into his lap. Her body is still shuddering with laughter and there is a spark in her eyes that he hasn't seen in weeks. He leans over and kisses her cheek as she struggles against him but he tightens his grip on her and she settles against his chest, smiling as she feels his lips press into her temple before moving to the back of her neck. He knows her, he knows what she likes.

She likes this.

"This is nice," she murmurs as his soft kisses make her tremble and she shivers against him. She cuddles up against him, moving a leg here, pushing his arm out of her way until she's pressed tightly against him, listening to his heart pound in his chest. His arm comes up and moves up and down her back lightly, while the other wraps around her tightly and she sighs in content. The California sun is just warm enough against the light breeze that's blowing and she finds herself drowsy. Sandy's steady heartbeat lulls her into state of contentment that she hasn't felt in a long time. She can't even remember the last time when they spent a moment like this.

She feels safe.

"But when you hold me like you do, it feels so right, oh now, I start to forget.When that hurt gets thrown.

Feeling like you can't go on….Something like that, and I don't know the rest…" She giggles again as she listened to him begin to sing a part of her favorite David Gray song, his deep voice rumbling against her ear.

"I missed this," she murmurs, tightening her hold on him, burying her face into his chest.

"I know me too."

She cuddles closer and inhales the smell of him. She wouldn't trade Sandy for the world.

"I love you."

He smiles at her, as he hasn't heard those words in weeks. She gets up from the chair, a smile in her eyes and takes his hand, pulling him up while seductively moving against him.

"Bedroom. Now," she whispers sweetly in his ear.

His grin gets bigger and he kisses her softly.

"I love you too."

Who was he to argue?

The doorbell rang and Ryan looks up from the table at the Cohen's, mumbling the words, "I'll get it," as he chomps on his Chinese food and swallows. Sandy nods and tips his glass to him in thanks.

Officer Samantha Walthrop looks him squarely in the face before cracking her gum and looking over his shoulder for any sign of Sandy. Her heart pounds lightly in her chest and she had a hand on the butt of her gun, just in case. The man beside her, an FBI agent, or a "suit," shows the boy his badge before moving him out of the way.

His blue eyes were wide as the officers enter the house without warning and Sandy stops grinning, while Kirsten and Seth look at the confusion on his face before they turn to their new guests.

"Sanford Cohen, you are under arrest!"

Sandy dropped his chopsticks and looked down at the table before getting up slowly. Seth squints at him the look on his face saying '_No way!' _Seth feels sick. This kind of stuff doesn't happen to him. This is something that happens to Marissa, or to Ryan. He looks at Ryan, noticing that his jaw is slightly open and there is a look that Seth defines later as terror.

Kirsten rises and Seth stops dead in his tracks from shoveling the Chinese into his mouth.

"Wait, this must be some mistake!" Her voice is sharp and crisp and even Ryan cringes. Her eyes dart to her husbands and she can see instantly that it is indeed no mistake. _'He knows,'_ she thought, _'Oh God, he knows it's not a mistake. Oh God, no!'_

He mouths the words, _"I'm sorry." _

How can he be so calm?

The officer's move to place handcuffs on Sandy, instructing him that he places his hands behind his head. His eyes are dark, the pupils dilated as he keeps looking at Kirsten, willing her to have control and praying that she knows how much he loves her. His heart has never pounded so hard in his life.

"You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you can not afford one, one will be appointed to you…."

"You have a huge mistake, this is my husband!" Kirsten was almost furious now, her face was red and her hands were shaking.

Samantha Walthrop took the time to jump in front of her and inform her, no this was indeed no mistake. "No mistake Mrs. Cohen, he's being charged of aiding and abetting a known terrorist as well as consortion!"

"Terrorist?" Kirsten asked, disbelief in her voice. Her eyes darted to Sandy's. His widened in response. It must be news to him.

"Rebecca Bloom, she blew up a building and ran away, injuring people; that makes her a terrorist. A lot of things have changed since September 11th."

Seth looked up in shock, for once in his life he had absolutely nothing to say. He didn't even know if he could muster the words of "Holy Shit," right now.

"Sandy!" her voice held tears and confusion, this couldn't be happening to her, not now. This happened to other people, this did not happen to her.

He mouthed the words, _"I love you." _

She mouthed back, _"Sandy, no!"_ She shook her head. _"No!"_

Kirsten's in denial and everyone can see it.

Ryan was tense, his shoulders heaved in and out and a fire burned in his eyes, a solid rage, he wanted to snap and to hit the officers and let Sandy bolt. But Kirsten might ground him until he was in his thirties and he needed to be here for her. She wasn't going to take this easy. He let out the breath he was holding when he saw Seth. He had turned a ghastly white with his dumbfounded gaze and looked like he might puke the Chinese up right then and there.

No one was taking this easy.

They both needed to be here for her. He keeps his eyes on Sandy and watched the private conversation between his foster parents. Kirsten kept playing with her hands, twisting her fingers in and around. She was severely uncomfortable and nervous and it shown upon her delicate features.

Sandy looked at the confusion and hurt that was displayed on his wife's face and inwardly cringed. She was to the point of tears right now.

'_Fuck! FUCKFUCKFUCK! You really did a good one this time Cohen,' _he glances at Ryan and there is a haunting look displayed upon his boyish features. Somehow he knows this isn't the first arrest he's ever witnessed.

As they start to drag him away he yelled over his shoulder, "Kirsten, baby, call Mark, call Mark Dupris honey, okay? It'll be okay, just call Mark. I love you," and just like that Kirsten Cohen's world was yanked out from underneath her.

"Sandy no!" The desperation in her voice made Sandy wince. She was hurting all over again and it's his fault.

She went to go after him but Samantha held her back before releasing her into the arms of her young blond boy. Sam watched as the beautiful woman sank down to her knees, the young boy following suit as he held her tightly and whispered what she could only assume were words of comfort.

There would be no comfort tonight, for any Cohen.

Samantha grinned. She didn't know which was better: the shock on Sandy Cohen's face or the look of his wife, Kirsten Cohen. Maybe it was their two sons combined.

Maybe it was the fact that she had just devastated one of the most influential families of Newport Beach.

Just

Like

That.

Whichever it had been, it was sure worth it and she smiled as she walked out of the huge mansion.

She whistled to the tune 'Bitch,' by Meredith Brooks.

And people said that police had no fun.


	5. Bars

Sorry I haven't updated this one – I love torturing Sandy. You guys will enjoy the Newport Prison part….

XxXxX

"_The greatest thing you'll ever learn, is just to love, and be loved in return." _

Moulin Rouge.

XxXxX

Sandy tugged at his tie impatiently, his verdict only minutes away. Someone coughed. He and Mark were confident that he was in the safe zone.

Suddenly the twelve jurors entered and the Judge asked if they had come to a verdict.

"We have your honor."

The Judge read the paper and spoke with the clearest words that have ever resonated through the ears of Sandy Cohen.

"Sanford Cohen? I sentence you to eight years in a federal security prison, with the possibility of parole, in four years."

He stared at Judge Murphy Beckstrom with pure shock.

He then glanced at Mark, his lawyer and friend, who stared back at him with an open jawed response. Mark had easily convinced the jury that Sandy was innocent.

Easily.

Apparently, not so.

He didn't dare look at his wife, because he could hear her muffled sobs behind him. The look on her face would easily break his heart.

He didn't want to look at his family.

The security guards came forward to arrest him and he quickly turned towards Kirsten.

"Baby. I LOVE YOU, you boys be good."

Those were his last words as the guards yank him around, placing cuffs upon his wrists and escorting him out, listening as Mark offered Kirsten comforting words.

Eight years.

In prison.

Samantha Walthrop waited patiently as they led him away and to the prison that he would be going to.

She listened with mirth as Kirsten Cohen sobbed into her father's arms.

If she would hurry she could make it in time to welcome him into his new home.

'_No, money can't buy you everything.' _

XxXxX

Being stripped down was embarrassing.

Being photographed with the height meter was mortifying.

Sanford Cohen was a prisoner.

Handsome Sandy Cohen, great smile, award winning personality, your best friend when you needed one, was now no more that a pea in a pod.

Being thrown prison clothes, the ugly yellow-orange color, he threw them on quickly. They smelled of must and scratched his skin. He tugged at his collar.

The guards led him into his new icy cell.

A cell.

So small, so cold, so very frightening.

So real. This was his life now. He never envisioned this.

He looked at it wide eyes as the guard with a grin shut the door and stood outside it. It was a gray/blue and had words carved in it like, 'MARV was HERE and I HATE MY BITCH WIFE.' There was a few scratches in which he took that someone was counting down the days.

Inside was a female officer with dark hair and wild dark eyes, looking at him with a smile that only the devil could carry.

"I've waited for a long time, Sandy Cohen."

She took out her stick as he looked at her with wide eyed fear. She was quick. She was forceful. She got right down to the point.

It didn't take her long to bring him to his knees.

It didn't take her long to get him to beg.

It didn't take him much longer to pass out after she cracked him on the back of his head.

"Welcome to the Newport prison, bitch!"

With a satisfied grin, she left to his soft moans of anguished pain.

XxXxX

"Mom? What, what just happened? I don't understand…?" Seth sputtered in the car as she wiped her eyes.

Ryan stared on silently. He understands. Someone had it in for Sandy. Now Sandy is in jail. Now getting Sandy out of jail…isn't going to be as easy as he thought.

Caleb looked in the review mirror at Seth.

"A mistake. A very huge mistake. Don't worry Kiki, I'm going to call everyone I know – we'll get him out," he didn't sound so sure this time. He kept his eyes focused on the road.

Kirsten leaned her head on the window and stared as her world slipped on by.

"I don't understand either Seth."

XxXxX

Sandy learned one thing his first day.

Prison hurts.

He had a headache that could make a fairy flinch from a hundred feet away.

He saw spots. Purple, green, blue, yellow, red, periwinkle. Or so he thought.

He would definitely sue that bitch when he was out of here.

He groans and makes it to the toilet in time to empty the contents of his stomach as stars and brightly colored dots flash before his eyes.

He's sick.

His ribs hurt, but they're not broken.

His head hurts, but there is no blood.

His heart aches because he's alone and scared.

He wants his warm home.

He wants his sons.

He wants his wife.

He wants to be sitting in his ridiculously expressive house, with his wife arguing to Caleb. Dear Lord, he would give anything to argue with Caleb. He would give anything to be somewhere else other then here.

Not this dingy icy cold prison cell.

Not staggering back to a squeaky, uncomfortable bed.

He had to face the facts. Newport had softened him. He wasn't used to rough cheep fabric sheets that scratched his skin when he laid on them. He wasn't used to the cold that crept up and through his bones. He wasn't used to being mistreated.

His days in Newport had spoiled him big time.

He was used to those nice, soft Egyptian billion thread count sheets that his wife spent thousands of dollars on.

He shivered.

Oh how he missed those sheets.

He would shave his head in front of thousands and do a dance that would embarrass Seth to no end, to be able to sleep with those sheets wrapped around him.

He shakes his head slowly, his thoughts mangled and neurotic. He is stuck in prison, and the only thing he can think about is sheets?

He wants his Kirsten.

He can only hope he won't hurt her with his decision of not letting her see him.

XxXxX

"Jesus Sandy, how – what? How the hell did you get that black eye?"

"Apparently, Mark, I'm not that popular," he winced as he eased himself into the dingy prison chair as he talked to Mark through the glass.

Since he had been in here for two weeks, that female cop, Samantha Walthrop apparently was allowed visits every so many days to remind him of how small and worthless he had truly become. No sooner did the bruises heal then were they reapplied to his body.

She was such a bitch.

"So, how are they treating you here?" Mark leaned forward on his hands, awaiting his response. "Other then the obvious. I'm trying to get you transferred into something more relaxed. Christ Sandy, you look like hell." Mark looked disgusted.

Sandy glared at him. If Mark could only see the bruises _underneath _his clothes. _'I feel like hell.' _

Mark could have passed for Sandy's twin, except for the very salt and peppery hair. He had green eyes that twinkled with mischief and in college; Mark definitely had all the girls. Normally it was Sandy who kept him out of trouble, now; it was the other way around.

"How's Kirsten?" He asked, his voice hopeful as she was the only thing that even kept him going.

"She's okay… her father is calling literally everyone he knows and yet no luck."

Sandy smirked. Somebody must truly hate him.

"Funny, I never thought Cal could care."

"Oh he cares Sandy, he cares a great deal. I've never seen Kirsten the way she is now, she's miserable. The boys are miserable. I'm miserable because I can't get you out of here, and I don't know why."

Sandy hung his head, the hair falling into his eyes. He rubbed his shadowed face, listening his hand rasped against the beard he had growing. No need to shave, it covered the bruises.

"Well, keep doing what you're doing, someone has to crack eventually."

'_I hope it's not me.' _

"She wants to see you Sandy…"

He shook his head. "No, she can't. She'll simply have a fit, and then she'll cry when she sees how I look. I can't cause her more pain right now. Please, Mark… not yet okay?"

The truth was, he couldn't bear to see her. Seeing her would make him cry and break down. Seeing her would rupture these defenses he had put up. Seeing her would take down these solid walls that had come up.

He couldn't risk seeing her.

Mark nodded sadly.

"Sandy, be careful. I wish you would tell me who is doing this to you."

Sandy stared back at his friend long and hard. He paused, as if wanting to tell him, ad then realizing what might happen while he was in here was worse then him taking these unbearable beatings.

He gave him a soft smile,

"Take care, Mark. Tell Kirsten and the boys, I love them."

XxXxX

It was always dark when they led him into this little room. This room was always dark, always gloomy. The room was for the insane, and slowly, Sandy was almost positive that's where he was going.

Insane.

They always threw his sore body into this padded and silent cell, where he could only wait to sense her presence. Then 'WHACK!' she always blindsided him when she smacked him with that beater stick. It was always on the back, or the ribs, or the thighs, whatever she could to bring him down, she did.

But she did have class, she never knocked him unconscious. That, he always managed to do on his own when he finally was allowed back into his cell, finally allowed to wallow in his pain.

If she asked him a question, she expected an answer, like today's, "Did you say anything?"

"No." Flat response. Good. No emotion. Like a soldier. Think of Kirsten. Think of Seth. Think of Ryan…. Think of Florida. Think of New York… think of anything other then what was coming.

'Whack!' that was right over his ribs and back. It throbbed.

Sandy winced internally, one of these days he was going to hear his bones crack with the force.

If she heard a whimper, she smacked him harder.

If he begged, she hit him until he didn't speak.

If he moved, she wailed on him until he didn't.

It was that simple.

The faster he fell, the faster he could just lie there, the faster it was over.

Sometimes though, she kicked him right smack in his diaphragm and so he accidentally sucked in air, she would hear it and hit him again, harder and harder.

She hit him so hard one night, he was sure she was going to kill him.

This woman had some deep, deep, rage. She needed to see a therapist.

He saw stars, he saw birds, and he even saw things that he didn't even think were possible to see. But yet despite the pain, despite the beatings when he closed his eyes, he always saw Kirsten, and somehow that managed to give him the strength to make it through, one beating to the next. He could always see her smile softly, or feel her warm arms wrap around him and pull him close. He could always feel her body next to his and listen as she whispered sweet nothings.

He missed her.

When they threw him into his dingy cold cell, he gasped for breath, often wishing he had superhero powers. Or like the titanium body like Wolverine had. That would do some wonders.

Every night was the same warning. "You tell anyone _I_ do this to you, I'll make sure you never see _them_ again."

So every night he kept quiet.

Every night he prayed for a miracle that would not come.

Every night he thought to himself, _'This isn't fair to her. She deserves better.' _

Every night he thought of calling Mark and telling him to draw up the papers he never, ever wanted to sign. It would make it easy for her.

To be free of him…

Only God knows how bad her reputation is trashed now…

It wasn't fair to her, and eight years is a long time. She deserved better.

Especially, if you're in prison.

XxXxX


	6. Home, But Not As Sweet

Hello loverfaces. LONG TIME no see. I missed all of you.

Please review...

Welcome me back. It's been a long 7 years…..

XxXxX

_It doesn't hurt me  
You want to feel how it feels  
You want to know, know that it doesn't hurt me  
You want to hear about the deal I'm making  
You...  
You and me_

_And if I only could_  
_I'd make a deal with God_  
_And I'd get him to swap our places_  
_Be running up that road_  
_Be running up that hill_  
_Be running up that building_

_If I only could oh..._

_You don't want to hurt me_  
_But see how deep the bullet lies_  
_Unaware I'm tearing you asunder_  
_Oh there is thunder in our hearts, baby_  
_Is there so much hate for the ones we love_  
_Tell me we both matter don't we…._

_And if I only could  
I'd make a deal with God  
And I'd get him to swap our places  
_

_-Placebo – Running up that hill._

XxXxX

Sandy shifted uncomfortably against his cot. His head was pounding yet again from another brutal attack by Officer She-Hitler. However it was his last because she had gotten a transfer. She was now a Detective and transferred to Las Vegas.

'_Well, isn't this a perfect little amazing mystery?' _

His mind was startled and shocked with the news. Maybe his sentence would be reduced…

It has been nearly a year and eight long and tortuous months since he has been locked up. Time shown on his face, his piercing blue eyes were tiresome and fatigued, yet wild and constantly aware of who was behind him, of any noise that seemed odd, of any noise period.

His senses were heightened to the extreme of a wolf. He could hear a guard coming a mile away or a fight breakout in the shower room.

The last time Walthrop tried to attack him he had her so quickly on her back and fearful for her life she smacked her head off the floor and put her back up against a wall, her eyes teaming with anger and fear.

A caged animal eventually shows its true self with due time.

His punishment for that was solitaire for a month which was nothing - he nearly enjoyed it instead of being surround these people, some of which were animals or pedophiles, murders, or any of that sorts. Being alone with his thoughts was perfect it gave him more time to imagine his life as it used to be. He never even factored it the fact that it could be sooner than what he thought.

He grew his hair out slightly long and a goatee covered his face along with a constant five o' clock shadow. He worked out everyday sometimes two or three times a day and had gained considerable amount of muscle, despite the food being so disgusting that you couldn't barely choke it down.

He was lucky in some respect because he had his own cell. Some of the fellow inmates he had actually put in here or tried to defend at some point in their life and as a guard put it him "You wouldn't be alive if we hadn't done this for you."

Done what exactly? Let him get beat within an inch of his life for the first six months. Walthrop barely visited now but other worries fatigued him. She quit after tearing a muscle in her shoulder.

He hadn't seen Kirsten in nearly a year and eight long, terrible, lonely impossible months. He knew if he did see her he would lose it entirely.

He would lose his focus of staying alive and beating this, He would BEAT the system.

But what would he become once he was released?

_His wife's hair was so gorgeous and he loved playing with every blond strand. She lay on the couch in front of him watching tv as he played with her hair. Fingertips brush the naked soft skin of her arms as his hands roam. He smiles as he gets his desired reaction of goose bumps on her silky flesh._

_She turns her head, a flash of desire across her face, her eyes dancing and adoring him and only him. He can almost feel her kissing him softly. _

But it's only just a dream… It's always just a damn dream.

XxXxX

"Hello Kirsten," Mark said sweetly as she opened the massive door to the beautiful house.

"Hi Mark, come in, come in," she ushered softly and lead him past the foyer to the living room.

Mark took notice of the added blankets and pillows stashed in the corner where she had obviously been sleeping.

He took notice of her, her hair lacked sheen and the exhaustion that roved her face was evident of night terrors and many sleepless mind numbing nights.

"How are you?" he asked worriedly, thinking his coming here was not the best of ideas.

She chuckled as she went to the brandy and gave him a glare.

"How I am doing Mark?"

Her voice was ice. It echoed from the house. It bounced unto the cold floor and flew outside the windows as they seemed to rattle and Mark appeared to shrink a few inches.

She took a sip of the amber devil before holding her now naked left hand. "I'm just peachy….Actually it's not your fault, I'm sorry," she whispered as she clutched the glass so hard Mark was scared she would shatter it.

He shook his head accepting the woman's utmost apology.

"He sent me divorce papers you know? Us, twenty years of us, and he gives up because of this, BECAUSE OF THAT STUPID WOMAN."

"He wanted you happy, not torn down because of all this," Mark whispers.

"He won't even talk to me Mark, its just letters. He doesn't call; he refuses to see me….I can't do this. I can't keep doing this…. It's not fair to him or me or…." Kirsten breaks down and sobs before finishing her sentence. Her whole body shudders and gasps of air cannot come fast enough. When Sandy saw her thin frame and near skeleton appearance he may find him and murder him, in a raw cold blood.

"Kirsten you do what you think you need to do, but I didn't come over here to check on you, I come over here to tell you that he will be out in a week and no one knows. Not even him."

The glass shatters on the cold marble floor as everything she wants to hear is coming true and everything she thinks she knows is turning black.

Mark hears an intake of breath and looks above him as Carter's white knuckled grip clings on the railing.

"Or Him…"

XxXxX

Sunlight was bright and he hesitated at the gate.

"Later Cohen, don't forget what I said about my kid, when you get back on my feet."

SLAM.

Sanford Cohen was free.

Julie Cooper pulled her sunglasses off her astonished face from the convertible.

"What in JESUS H CHRISTS NAME HAPPENED TO YOU IN PRISON?!"

He winced as her voice hit a higher note than he thought possible. She stilled looked amazing though.

She looked him over. "MY, oh MY Sandy…"

He was built; his face still held the well trimmed goatee but he was clean shaven around it. His shirt collar was open, his suit bunched to tightly around his shoulders and chest, his dark hair had gotten a insignificant recent hair cut but was still slightly long, graying at the temples.

He huffed. "Really, they send you?"

Julie raised her eyebrows and flashed her perfect teeth into a near snarl – smile at the delightfulness that stood before her.

"Oh Sandy, do you have any idea what the hell has been going on in a year and then some?"

His voice is gruff and sounds like gravel was rammed down his throat. His hands clench into tight fists as his palm begins to sweat.

"No Julie, but I have a fine feeling you will enjoy catching me up."

"Damn right I will… Now get in the damn CAR and hurry up and fix this mess that has been created," she clenched her teeth, flicked her hair back and shifted so she could open up the door to her brand new beautiful Shelby GT Mustang, black with red racing stripes.

The engine rumbled like a cougar and Sandy walked to the driver's side of the car.

"Move, the last thing I heard that sounded this good was a Martha Stewart commercial," his voice growled along with the engine, nearly perfectly in tune with the depth.

"By the way, WE are stopping by the mall and YOU are buying me some clothes."

Julie rolled her eyes but enjoyed a view that she never thought could exist.

"Whatever you say Sanford," she grinned back at him as she jumped in the passengers seat.

XxXxX

Taylor buzzed around the kitchen and Kirsten sat on the island nursing a hangover.

Who would have thought that half the kids of Newport and Chino needed families?

Who in the hell would have thought that Kirsten would have made her home available for kids and not had Sandy there… not Sandy but there was Carter who was spending his late nights.

But then again who was Taylor to say what was to happen… She missed , but then again she understood why Kirsten did what she needed to, or more or less went along with whatever. She wasn't the same woman she used to be. She just didn't care.

XxXxX

Sandy walked through the doors of a house that he lived in long ago.

It was dark, and only the kitchen light was on.

His ex-wife sat there, nursing a shot glass of vodka.

His body tenses, and the reaction to hers is equally as shocked.

'_She didn't know.'_

As Julie walks in behind him the glass falls shattering and she jumps out of her skin at the sound.

Ravished blue eyes tear up at the site of her. Everything she once was and everything that he made her into now.

Her body is skinny and her bones seem to poke through her clothes. Her eyes are dull and her hands tremble. Her hair doesn't shine or move like it used to and dark circles ran underneath her eyes.

She looks at him her eyes roving over his chiseled features that being in prison benefited him. He stood taller, his muscles and chest bulged through the new stale clothing of the mall.

His hair was faultless and sexy and she watched as he ran his hand through it, ruffling it up.

The goatee was perfect on his hardened chiseled jaw and she was dizzy with his scent, the fact that he was standing so close to her and yet so unyielding.

His eyes never left hers.

Every second her heart pounded harder and louder in her ears and her voice went away and she crumbled and he took a step back, closer to the door but ran into Julie. He was faced with a gut wrenching decision.

He stepped up behind Kirsten and his voice dropped into a sexy deep whisper.

"Can I talk to you? In private?"

His voice gave her goose bumps and she stood up wordlessly and stared at him for a second and led them into their bedroom…

XxXxX


End file.
